Free My Next Step by Dave Liniger

through.
    There were so many people fighting to keep me alive, giving of themselves in unimaginable ways, and all I was thinking about now was giving up.
    “ That makes you the worst kind of hypocrite. If you give up now, you will wash away forty years of delivering speeches to tens of thousands of people, encouraging them to never give up, to deal with whatever obstacles have been put in their way, to find the courage to face those obstacles head on! Screw it. I won’t quit. Not now, not ever!”
    The minute I had that epiphany, I made up my mind to keep on fighting. I owed it to everyone to never give up. I’ve had a lifetime of minor and major setbacks just as I’ve had minor and major accomplishments. Each one taught me that this is not the end of the world. You move on. I learned courage from the soldiers I stood next to in the fields of Vietnam and from the way Gail handled her challenges knowing she would be partially paralyzed for the rest of her life. She never once cried, never complained and she never missed a therapy session. She never looked back and said a word about what she lost. Instead she looked forward toward her future and figured out a way to recover. Gail’s quiet persistence was an inspiration to me and to so many others who watched her battle the odds. It certainly was a learning experience; one that taught me that even if you had your nose bloodied, you have to get up and keep on fighting.
    So, I made up my mind right then and there that if I was going to be a paraplegic, I’d be the best damned paraplegic in the world. I’d learn to play wheelchair hockey or basketball, and to be just as tough as an able-bodied person. I wouldn’t lose who I am just because I lost the use of my legs or arms. I knew I had the inner strength to do whatever it took. I would not spend the rest of my life bedridden. I just needed to rally my determination again.
    Everyone has moments in his or her life that turn into weeks and sometimes months or even years. The most important thing to remember is that moments do pass. No matter how bad it hurts, the world does come back into focus. You have to live your life one step at a time. Perhaps you will take small steps instead of giant leaps, but as long as you keep moving forward, you will always be taking your next step.
    I am a fairly smart man and though I don’t profess to be nearly as smart as a lot of my colleagues, one thing I am sure of is that I can outwork anybody. I acquired that strong ethic and mental toughness at a young age while growing up on a farm in the Midwest. Every year from March through October, we raised white-faced heifers that grazed on the land of our pasture. When fall came, they went off to the butcher.
    The heifers were constantly getting out of the pasture. One day, my father came home to find that a cow had gotten out. She was several hundred feet away, down near our pond. We needed to go get her and bring her back up to the barn. As we made our way toward the cow, I noticed my father was carrying a twenty-pound cinder block with a large linked chain attached to it that we sometimes used as a dog lead. When we reached the wayward heifer, I watched in horror as my father wrapped the chain around her head. He dropped the block on the ground and then told me to get a switch. He wanted me to hit the cow a couple of times to get her to move. We were trying to get her to budge, but she was being obstinate.
    I was just a little fella at the time, so I could lie on the ground under the legs of that old cow and hit her with the switch. I wasn’t hitting her very hard, but I assure you I was scared to death she would stomp on me. When the cow still refused to move, my father lost his temper. He grabbed me off the ground, threw me up against the side of the cow and said, “Make up your mind whether you are more afraid of me or the cow.” I don’t recall my father ever getting mad like that before or after that day, but I do remember I was no